The Ballad of Margaret Kittredge
by Fall-Out-Elf
Summary: Stirling finds himself falling in love with Kit, who also loves him but has trouble admitting she does. Tragic circumstances seperate the two, maybe forever! Will Kit ever be happy again? Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: All right people, this is my first fanfiction, and it was pretty darn hard to write, so please review! I want to hear everything you think, even if you want to tell me it was bad. I don't care. Please review! **

Chapter One: June, 1936

Kit and Ruthie were slung across Kit's front porch, licking chunks of ice with a pile of library books for their annual Read-A-Thon. It was noon on a lazy summer day, and there were no chores underfoot, so the girls were taking advantage of a rare opportunity to relax. Their goal was to finish 20 books, ranging from "A Little Princess" to "Treasure Island." Kit was the more prolific reader, having already read four books since they started at 8 o'clock that morning. Ruthie was close behind, having almost finished her third. Kit, midway through her fifth book, "Death of a Salesman", laid it down and groaned.

"That book is depressing," Kit moaned. "Story of my life."

"I told you not to pick that one," Ruthie looked up from Little Women," for exactly those reasons."

Kit growled, fell back on the porch and rubbed her eyes. "I'll endure it a few pages more."

Ruthie laughed. "Attagirl, Kit."

She sighed and buckled down to attack the Loman family once again. After this, she should read something lighter and more to her taste like Little Men. Yes, Little Men would be the perfect choice.

Just as she was making headway in Death of A Salesman, the story was interrupted by Mr. Smithens' car pulling up into the roundabout. Mrs. Howard stepped out, Stirling in tow.

"Thank you for the ride, Mr. Smithens!" Mrs. Howard waved.

"Anytime, Ms. Howard," he smiled and waved back. He was about to pull off when he saw Ruthie sitting on the porch.

"When do I pick you up, Ruth?"

Ruthie glanced at Kit in a bewildered fashion.

"About 5 o'clock. We're having our 9 hour Read-A-Thon."

Mr. Smithens laughed. "All right then. You girls have fun. I'll pick you up then, all right, Ruthie?" His car pulled out and drove down the path. The girls turned their attention to the Howards.

"Where have you been?" Ruthie asked.

"Oh, we were just going to one of the free clinics to see if Stirling here is underweight."

"I'm not," Stirling mumbled.

"But it turns out he's just naturally skinny, and he's not underweight. Yet," Mrs. Howard pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow. "I'm not sure that's true. I'd feel better if Stirling had been examined by a professional doctor. He's done a lot of growing lately. He's almost at five feet. How tall are you, Kit?"

"I'm five foot one."

"And when Stirling arrived he was only 4 feet. That's a whole foot in two years. Can't be healthy," Mrs. Howard continued her rant and shook her head. Kit could see it was partly true though. When Stirling had moved in 2 years ago, Kit had been almost double his size. Now he was just about her height, and a little shorter than Ruthie, who was practically a tower.

"You'd better get some rest, lamby. You've got a Zoo Guides tour tomorrow."

"Would Stirling like to join us for the 9 hour Read-A-Thon? We could use his help, and it's very relaxing," Ruthie said. She knew that the one thing Stirling hated more than anything in the world was Mrs. Howard's version of "rest:" lying in a bed with five covers on a beautiful sunny day. It was more torture than "rest."

"I suppose so," Mrs. Howard said. "Come inside if there are any bees. Stirling is allergic to bees."

"Thanks, Mrs. Howard," Kit said. Mrs. Howard teetered inside and Stirling took a seat beside Kit.

"What should I read?"

"Whatever you want to," Kit said. "But you have to read the whole thing, so nothing that will bore you," she paused, "or, in my case, cause me to recollect the miseries of childhood." She held up Death of A Salesman. Stirling smiled and selected A Christmas Carol.

By 5 o'clock the children had finished all 20 of the books and were relaxing on the porch with a jug of lemonade.

"What was your favorite, Stirling?" Kit asked.

"The Raven, because it was creepy. And relatively short."

"I liked The Secret Garden best. I've read it before, but there were such beautiful illustrations in it," Ruthie chimed in. "And you, Kit?"

Kit pondered. "Probably The Hound of the Baskervilles. And I hated Death of A Salesman the most."

Ruthie groaned. "Oh, get over it."

"But I can't! It's burned in my mind." Her head fell forward and she banged it against her fist. "Get it out, get it out!"

Ruthie ignored her and turned to Stirling so they could discuss The Raven.

"I'll probably dress up as Edger Allen Poe for the poetry night. Isn't that a good idea? I could use my dad's shabby suits," Ruthie yammered.

"I might recite something from A Children's Garden of Verses. I know them all off by heart, Mother has made me read them so many times."

Kit and Ruthie exchanged giggles and Stirling rolled his eyes. "No, I'd do some Shakespeare. All the worlds a-" Stirling's voice cracked and fell several octaves- "**stage**."

Kit and Ruthie were laughing their poor little butts off while Stirling turned several shades of red. "Look, I can't help it," he muttered.

"Sorry, Stirling. We didn't mean it," Kit said. "

"Fine, fine," Stirling blushed. "Don't worry about it."

"Hey, do you remember that time Aunt Millie was over? You'd just met her," Kit reminisced.

"Um, yes, of course," replied Stirling.

"She said something, I think, about how you were so short and squeaky and scrawny but someday you'd grow into your ears and elbows." Kit remembered that very well. Millie had also said that someday Stirling would be a handsome fellow. At the time Kit had thought that was ridiculous. Now as she looked at his blue-gray eyes and freckled, smiling face- Kit turned pink and shook the thought from her mind.

"I think I remember," said Stirling. "She was really nice."

"The chickens!" Ruthie giggled. "And the bloomers and the garden! Oh, the memories!" she chortled.

Over the next few days Stirling's appetite grew larger and larger. He couldn't seem to help himself. He would finish his meager portion of dinner, carry his dish to the kitchen, then walk back in and his stomach would start growling and gurgling, so everyone gave Stirling a bit of their meal. Before long Stirling was noticeably pudgier. In a few months, he shot up like a weed and was skinny again. Kit was five feet one and a half, Stirling was pushing five three! It all seemed remarkable to Kit, this growing up business. Mr. and Mrs. Kittredge and Mrs. Howard seemed to notice these changes in the children and one day after supper pulled them into the drawing room to talk.

"Stirling, Kit, you're almost finished grade seven," Mrs. Howard began.

"Next year would be the year you begin high school. But, as you know, the situation we're in here doesn't allow us to spend much money on education," Mr. Kittredge stated.

Kit's heart was rapidly sinking. No high school? Mrs. Kittredge noticed.

"Don't worry, love. We'll definitely send you to high school. But that would involve you earning the $20 you need to pay for high school over the summer. Not by egg-selling or having a newspaper route, that money will still go to the family."

"You'll have to be creative and work hard. We know you can do this, okay, dears?" Mrs. Howard nodded.

"Yes," Kit and Stirling said. Then they retreated to their individual rooms. Kit was pounding out ideas on a typewriter.

"Let's see. I could sell lemonade; take family portraits with my camera- oh! and the newspaper pays for editorials, that too." Kit looked over her ideas. They were pretty good, but where would she get the money to buy lemons? She crossed off the lemonade. And developing the film would cost money too… she crossed off that idea. And to earn enough money from the newspaper she would have to write 20 articles a week. That was way too much. She sighed and chucked the paper in the garbage can.

Thump! Thump! There came a noise from the stairs. Kit twirled her chair around to see Stirling making his way up the stairs. "Oh, hey."

"I've got some moneymaker ideas," Stirling said.

"Good," Kit said. "Because I don't."

"OK. One- we hold a series of dog washes near the dog park downtown. We charge 50 cents a dog if it's small, and really big ones are 75 cents."

"That's a really good idea," Kit nodded. "Any others?"

"This one sort of came from your attic. We go door to door with some cleaning supplies and ask people if they have any cluttered spaces that we could clean up. So if people have an attic like this one before you, um, cleaned it, we'll make it neat like yours is now. And we could get a lot of money from that."

"Wow!" Kit laughed. "You're good at this. Come on, let's make a business plan."

In the duration of the eight weeks of summer holidays, Kit and Stirling worked harder than they ever had. In addition to chores, egg selling, and delivering newspapers, they cleaned four cluttered attics at $5 each, washed twenty small dogs, thirty really big ones, and made $37.50.

All the money spread out on the coffee table looked like a lot, but they were $2.50 short with only five days to go. Kit bit her lip. All that hard work for nothing! At least there was enough for one of them to go. She looked at Stirling, whose eyes were more watery than usual.

"Oh, lamby, don't cry," Mrs. Howard clucked and rushed to Stirling's side.

"We worked so hard though!" Kit cried and stomped her foot.

"Tell you what; we'll let the extra $2.50 come out of the egg money, how's that?"

"Really?" Kit squealed. "Oh my gosh! Thank you so much!"

"We're going to high school, Kit!" Stirling grinned and threw his arms around Kit, who stiffened and turned several shades of pink. Stirling backed away and dropped down on the couch. His face was very red. The adults in the room were laughing their heads off. Kit couldn't bring herself to look at Stirling, and just stared at the ground. She was so happy, but yet- why did Stirling have to do that? And yet- she shot a fleeting glance at Stirling, who raised an eyebrow at her- she had kind of liked the hug.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I hope you like Chapter Two. BTW, I won't be able to update because I'm heading off to camp this week. But I will update right after that- promise. OK, here we go.**

Chapter Two: November 1936

Kit and Ruthie filed into their homeroom, hand in hand. They were giggling and gossiping, looking at the fancy paper decorations that covered their classroom. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, Mr. Sinclair explained once the students were all seated, and today was going to be a free-for-all. They would stay in the homeroom all day, and they could do whatever they wanted as long as they were "reasonably quiet" and stayed in their seats. Ruthie and Kit made a beeline for the board games Mr. Sinclair always stacked in the back of the room.

"Quick, let's get Monopoly before someone snatches it," Ruthie suggested.

"Sure!" Kit grabbed the box. She felt a finger tap her shoulder and turned around.

"Can I play too?" Stirling asked.

"Okay," Kit said and laid the game on the ground. Ruthie started sorting out the jumbled mess of pieces.

"Hey, can I play too?" someone asked in an unusually high-pitched voice. Kit raised her head and saw Roger's sneering face.

"No."

"You're letting your boyfriend play."

"He's not her boyfriend," Ruthie snapped, putting the funny money into piles around the board. Roger ran his hands through his hair, looking a bit hurt. Roger kicked one of Ruthie's carefully arranged piles and scattered the colored paper. One stuck to the bottom of his shoe and he picked it off. He stared at it, scoffed, and ripped it into shreds.

"$500. I doubt you really have that much money, Kit. This is the closest you're EVER gonna' get. You're so poor you can't afford to buy clothes or food or anything that people who aren't BUMS can get. Hear that? Your family is nothing but a collection of low-rent bums!"

Kit was too shocked even to speak. All the kissy noises and Here-Comes-The-Bride renditions she could deal with. But this was too much.

"_Oh, so that's why you live with Kit," brayed Roger. "I thought you two were married!"_

_The class snickered as Roger made kissing noises. Stirling slouched in his seat. Kit shook her fist at Roger._

At the moment Kit wasn't shaking her fists at Roger; they were clenched around a Monopoly gameboard coming down on his pea-brained head.

The next thing she knew she was sitting on a bench outside and Mr. Sinclair was talking at her and Roger.

"Roger, you must understand what you said to Kit was incredibly mean -spirited and inappropriate. And Kit! Hitting your own classmate! Such childish behavior. Now go outside for recess and I'll go call the others out. No more behavior like that or you'll both be suspended."

"Sorry, Roger," Kit muttered.

"C'mere Kit. I wanna' tell you something," Roger said and stood up. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the school building

"What are we-"

"Quiet," Roger growled and stomped over to a spot near the school's brick wall. "Do you have any idea how much that hurts? To have your head beat on by a bum?"

Kit shook her head. "But you have to understand…" he glanced around the schoolyard. No one else was there. "if it weren't for your sweet little friend my dad would have had you expelled by now."

"My sweet little friend?" Kit was puzzled.

"Ruthie."

"What? You like Ruthie?" Kit let the shock soak in.

"You got a problem with that?"

"Ruthie would never ever like you. You were a perverted, prejudiced kid in grade four and you still are."

Roger pinned her against the brick wall. He kicked her several times in her foot. "Big words ain't gonna' get you nowhere."

"That doesn't hurt, you moron. Let me go!" Kit struggled, her cardigan sweater trapping her between the wall and Roger.

"Oh? You want something harder?" Roger's right hand left her, probably forming into a fist. Kit's knees knocked against each other. Just how hard could Roger punch?

She was paralyzed with terror.

"Stop!" Ruthie shrieked as someone dove in front of Roger. The person knocked Roger over, sending him spiraling down the muddy hill. Kit fell on top of her rescuer. The play yard was silent for a moment. Someone began to clap.

"Get off of me," groaned a husky voice. Kit rolled off the pile and looked at her rescuer. Her mouth dropped to the floor. It was Stirling. Stirling had just thrown himself in front of Roger and taken the bullet of Roger's punch. This was too weird.

"Oh my gosh! Are you okay?" Ruthie ran up and pulled Kit off of Stirling, then ran down the hill to help Roger up. Good old Ruthie.

"Roger! How dare you? You could have killed her! What's wrong with you? You're insane!" Ruthie was ranting. Kit helped Stirling to his feet and dusted him off. A teacher pulled the muddy Roger away from Ruthie.

"Um… Stirling?" Kit asked.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. So much." Stirling looked at the brick wall and sort of shuffled his feet.

"No problem, Kit."

At the end of the day Ruthie and Kit walked out of the classroom hand in hand, still giggling and gossiping as they had that morning, Stirling walking beside them.

They dropped Ruthie off at her house and continued to walk home. About a block away from their house, Stirling slipped his hand into hers. The butterflies in Kit's stomach started dancing, and a tingling sensation spread up her arm. It was unreal. She gave his hand a little squeeze and was certain she saw him blush a little bit. Her face must be positively pink at this point.

They walked into the house, took off their coats and boots, and ascended the stairs to their rooms to get started on homework. Just like any other normal day. But today wasn't normal. Kit could feel in her fluttering heart that today was maybe the most special day of her whole life. She contemplated this while staring at page 35 of her history textbook, part of the marathon of homework Mr. Sinclair had assigned for the weekend. She couldn't concentrate on the lesson at all; Thanksgiving in the United States: The Revolutionary War to Nationhood. It was probably fascinating, but she just couldn't focus. With an exasperated sigh, she closed the book and started staring at the wall across from the loosely stuffed armchair where she was sitting. She was looking right into her baseball alcove: mitt, ball, and- Ernie Lombardi. Schnozz. Teacups. _Stirling. _Memories flooded in and she shook them out and started trying to read her history lesson again.

She heard footsteps coming up the stairs and shut her book once again. Stirling was smiling as he came up the stairs.

"I couldn't concentrate on my homework."

"Neither could I," Kit said, scooting over in the big chair. "Come-sit."

Stirling sat down just beside Kit so they were squished quite closely together. "Let's at least try to make some headway," Kit sighed, whipping out her history book.

It had been hard concentrating just thinking of Stirling. Now he was sitting right beside her, sending tingles up and down her spine. She bit her lip and focused in on the book. Still no use. Stirling's hand appeared and closed the book. Kit set the book on the floor and leaned back into the chair. Stirling set his book on the floor and looked at Kit with his wide grey eyes. She looked down and nervously twiddled her thumbs. He set one hand on her shoulder and murmured something Kit couldn't hear. She leaned a little bit closer and he slid one arm around her shoulder. Kit grabbed his free hand and began stroking it a little with her thumb. It felt nice. Stirling's skin was very soft.

They cuddled for a while longer, neither mustering the courage to say anything. Finally Stirling turned his head and whispered three little words in her ear:

"I love you."

Kit gave him an uneasy glance. Her stomach was doing flips and turns, her skin was tingling something fierce.

"I love you, too," she finally said. A huge grin broke out on Stirling's face. Kit could feel a smile forming on her face as well. Stirling raised his hands and set them behind her head, tousling her hair slightly and sending tingles all over her scalp.

"May I?" he said. Kit nodded. The two moved in even closer than they already were. Stirling took a deep breath, and then he kissed her.


End file.
